


The Hand You're Dealt

by Welsh_Woman



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Might Add More Later..., Monster of the Week, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Traps and Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 21:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16961604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welsh_Woman/pseuds/Welsh_Woman
Summary: It was supposed to be a simple meeting...





	The Hand You're Dealt

**Author's Note:**

> I was given the words 'cards, trapped, time' by [vividlylost](https://vividlylost.tumblr.com/) from [this list](http://welshwoman1988.tumblr.com/post/169255695353/send-in-a-word-and-ill-write-a-drabble-or) and this was born!
> 
> Enjoy!

_Tick, tick, tick…_

Derek tries not to fidget in his seat as he stares down the man opposite him, jaw clenching down on the growl that he can feel rumbling in his chest.

The man is… well,  _plain_ would be a rather generous term to use. As a matter of fact, the cut and color of his suit would be the only thing one would say made him stand out; it was of a midnight blue material that seemed to shimmer under the light, and it seemed to almost  _bind_ the man to where he stood at the time.

_Tick, tick, tick…_

They had thought nothing of the strangeness of the suit at first, other than an offhanded comment from Lydia of being impressed that the Rakshasa that they were coming to meet employed such well-dressed underlings, they had shrugged the man off and had continued on their way.

That, perhaps, had been their biggest mistake; believing the man’s plainness made him unworthy of extra caution, that the fact that he was so  _plain_  meant that there wasn’t any danger there…

How quickly that all changed.

Now Derek was sitting at a table with this man, the man that he now knows  _is_  the Rakshasa, forced to play some sort of twisted game for his freedom.

_Tick, tick, tick…_

Or, so he thought…

“Come now, Mr. Hale, it is your move! After all-”

With a sudden flurry of his limbs, the Rakshasa pulls a handful of cards out of his vest pocket and fans them out on the table with a sinister grin, the same grin that first gave them a hint that there was more to him than met the eye.

Derek’s eyes are drawn to the cards almost without his say-so, his breath leaving his chest like he was just punched in the solar plexus when he sees what is printed upon them:

Lydia, bright eyes furious and gagged by some sort of black silk.

Scott, unconscious and an open wound on his forehead.

Isaac, wide awake and lips pulled back into a snarl.

Boyd, body bent under nearly a thousand chains.

Erica, frozen in the action of kicking out at her captor.

Cora, with nearly five men holding her furious form still.

Derek is on the verge of just jumping across the table and ripping the Rakshasa apart when it lays one last card down on the table with all the showmanship of a magician, practically forcing Derek to look at it and feel every bit of fight drain from his body.

It’s a picture of a man, bound in ropes with a knife being held to his neck by a shadowy figure behind him, glaring like he’s only a second away from killing the person taking the picture.

A man with bright brown eyes and an entire galaxy of moles dotted across his form.

A man that was _supposed_  to be away at college…

Derek finally gives in to the urge to snarl at the Rakshasa, causing his grin to grow as he caresses the edge of Stiles’ card like it was a portrait of his lover.

“After all, you’re not just playing for  _your_  life, are you?”

_**Tick, tick, tick…** _


End file.
